On the Wings of the Night
by Zantel
Summary: Erik is necromancer on a mission: To Teach the world exactly why you should never mess with aman who commands arimes of the dead and black magic. But, a greater threat lurks in wait, seeking not to teach the world a lesson, but to destroy it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Who do you people think I am? Andrew Lloyd Webber or Gaston Leroux? I OWN NOTHING BUT THE IDEA!

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It was cold, dark misty day. The kind of day where the heat and light and confidence of most people's lives was suddenly leeched away by the deathly chill. Alone in that eerie half-light, standing just out side of carefully drawn pentagram, the silhouetted figure of a man smirked slightly with satisfaction. He loved days like these. The man in question was tall, and lean in the manner of a wolf. Dressed in black robes, with a black shirt and leggings underneath, he seemed to melt into the shadows. The hood of his robe was drawn up over his head, concealing most his facial features and hair. His eyes were practically the only facial Features visible. 

There were three distinctly strange things about him though: one was a white mask that covered the right half of his face only visible due to its stark contrast with the monochromatic black of his clothes. The mask only left an eyehole and his mouth uncovered. The second was his eyes, which were gleaming feral amber. And the third was his very skin, as pale as the death and dead whom he so often came in to contact with. This masked man who stalked the half-light that all men shunned was Erik, infamous by his trade though none knew his name. By Mages and those who more than average about magic, Erik as known only by the name "Phantom", a play off his trade, and the fact that he was rarely seen, and on the few occasions that he was, Erik disappeared quickly, like the ghosts he summoned.

You see, Erik was a necromancer, one of the most feared in all the land. He was perhaps the most talented showing an uncanny gift for dark magic, in addition to necromancy as well as being an artist in many senses of the word.

And right now, he was performing a summoning. Erik held his right hand over the pentagram, and with his left hand, he slashed cut down the center of his right palm, letting blood drop in to the pentagram's center. He sprinkled a handful white and red powder around its edge while chanting "You who reside in the world unknown, the ones who fly freely without flesh or bone, come to me. The ones who reside beyond the grave, bereft of life, come to me. No longer human, but not yet beast, who prey off of life in dark, some to me. Spirits who haunt, and shadows that kill, I summon thee now, to obey my will"

Thousands upon thousands of black shapes, some humanoid, some so utterly alien, that they nearly all men cower in fright gathered in center of pentagram, each one thrashing and slamming it self against an unseen wall.

"You will not break free. The bounderies are drawn." Erik sated simply fixing a gleaming, somewhat sadistic gaze on the dead before him. The creatures in the pentagram thrashed more, but one by one they all gave up. Finally one came forward. It spoke with voice like bones rattling in an ill-made coffin "Very well. You have summoned us and we must obey. So, what is your bidding necromancer?"

"Revenge. You will make the lives of men hell on earth and send them to join you. And I will tell you the exact people you are to torment." The tone of Erik's voice was dark and baleful as spoke those words. Those inside the pentagram shrieked and howled with malicious delight as voices began to chatter away about the gruesome deeds they would do "Burn them"

"Drown them"

"Crush them"

"Break their bones."

"Strangle them"

"Bleed them"

"Cut out heir hearts"

"Skin them alive" the voices talked on, with addition to the macabre list, growing faster and louder, until all that was heard was cacophony of voices. "Enough" Erik bellowed above the din, waving one hand in sharp gesture that paralyzed the dead creatures." Go. I will summon you again when you are needed" Slowly, those inside the pentagram disappeared, and pentagram itself, turned to dust that was blown away in the breeze.

"Good." Erik whispered in strangely musical voice

"Good. Soon all will be ready, and then…" his trailed off for a moment before he continued

"Then I will have by revenge on all those who wronged me from birth to where I now stand." Erik's hand drifted up to tough his mask lightly as he spoke "If the world will not see its crimes, and repay its debts alone, then it must be made to. The world will learn its lesson at my hands and repay its debt to me in blood". Erik spoke as he was an oracle foretelling doom: dark, angry and above all his voice was hard and determined. He lowered his hand and slipped away in to the shadows. Strangely enough at the exact same moment that Erik swore vengeance on the world at large, some-one looked out the window in the direction of his voice although they could not hear it.

This Some one was Christine Daae, an heiress of a small noble family. Currently she embroidering at her window, as a noble woman should. Well, not exactly embroidering, it was more sitting and daydreaming about music and angels and her father while holding the embroidery limply in her hands. Christine was considered a shy beauty by society, curly brown hair fell down her back and clear doe like brown eyes gazed out the world. Christine was rather short, and by the higher ranked nobility, thought to be somewhat odd and a bit too innocent for her own good. She often day-dreamed, and was would speak out freely in def se of what she thought right.

"Rumors" she murmured softly

"So many rumors flying around nowadays. There's even one of a necromancer who plans to bathe the world death to suit his tastes" Christine shuddered a bit at the prospect of such a thing, then shook her head at what she believed to be pointless fears

"But that can't be true; it makes no sense at all." Her mind wandered to other things

"The king is holding his annual masked ball tomorrow night. People even say that dragons and even a few griffons are going to be there as well as all of mage's council." She smiled slightly "And Raoul. I wonder if we'll see each other before the ball"

Christine realized what she had just said about the date of the masked ball, and rushed off to prepare for the coming event. Little did she know that the masked ball would turn out to be even more than she had expected, in more ways than one.

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All right, all right I know that I'm making the characters appear perfect, but their flaws will be revealed later on. And yes, there will be a masquerade. It's just not a phan phic with out a masquerade. Now review or I will send legions of the dead after you to haunt your life for all time 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Need I explain the concept of FAN fiction?

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The night of masked ball had arrived, to cheers of approval and the warm glow of anticipation. The ball room had decorated to point that it was no longer recognizable as an indoor room. Mages had placed illusions on the walls, to make look like trees and bushes; a false river snaked its way around the edges of the room catching the light of a thousand candles and turning it into gold. Christine hurried into ball room, her glowing with delight at the prospect of the all the friendly faces and seeing her fiancé, Raoul.

Dressed as a forest spite in a dress of silvery green decorated with leaf patterns, Christine felt immensely proud of her herself for actually designing the costume herself. Christine took particular pride in her mask, a dark green domino with leaves painted on in silver and a few autumn colors such as red, and gold. She looked around the room anxiously, searching for the face of a well-known acquaintance; Christine was slightly disappointed when she couldn't find Raoul, or any one she knew well enough to have a conversation with.

But, the excitement of the event soon cured her of that, and she contented herself with observing the costumes for the time being. The costumes of the mage's council were the most spectacular by far, most had come dressed as dragons or griffons of varying colors, using illusionary magic to give themselves wings and tails. 'Extraordinary costumes, the wing looks so real.' Christine thought 'Although, it doesn't even come close to the real thing'.

For indeed, the rumors about the masked ball had all been true, there were real dragons and griffons outside in the courtyard, chatting with the mages and each to other about subjects arcane.

Moving down the list of spectacular costumes were the nobles dressed as animals, creature of magic, constellations, bards, angels, and a few clever people had come as puns: there was a formal apology who was man dressed in fine clothes with a sign saying "I am deeply sorry" hanging around his neck.

In short, people came dressed and masked as nearly anything under the sun. The king himself had decided to dress as a lion, with mane made of silk. "Appropriate, seeing as lion is king of the beasts, but a tad vain" was the general opinion of the king's costume. As he entered the room, the minstrels stopped playing and all eyes followed him as took his seat on the throne

"My dear friends" the king began "We are gathered here in celebration of …." Christine braced her herself mentally for a boring long-winded speech about happiness that would inevitably turn to the subject of loyalty to one's king. Unfortunately, she was right about the speech, but eventually it ended and all that was left to wait for was the king's permission to officially begin. Everyone the room waited on edge, with baited breath; At last the long- anticipated words were spoken

"Let the masquerade begin". In whirl of color, light and sound, everyone was off like as shot. Christine found herself dancing with a man dressed as a wolf. What the dancers didn't know was that the king's signal to begin the masquerade was the cue, for another to prepare his entrance.

Erik had been watching the unfolding event in a scrying glass with unwavering concentration. He laughed quietly to himself "Now the real dance shall begin. It is a dance of deception and of fate and it will be one that is never forgotten". With those words, Erik vanished in could of black smoke.

Back in the ballroom, people danced on oblivious to what was to come. Abruptly, the music stopped and an eerie black miasma gathered in the center of the dance floor. The miasma slowly solidified until Erik himself, the infamous "phantom stood in the center of the room. His very presence seemed to send people into frenzy; several of the noble ladies swooned from fright or sheer reluctance to be individual. Even Erik's costume seemed to have chosen to be as controversial as possible. He was dressed one of the few things no one had come as: a demon.

The costume consisted of a black domino whose side swooped up into points. The mask also sported four jagged blood-red streaks that cut diagonally across its right side. A long, crimson cloak with a tattered hem swept the floor, and ambers eyes glinted maliciously. Under the cloak was a black vest with wide lapels and under the vest was an iron –grey shirt with the eerie image of a black skull on it. Erik wore black gloves, with curved claw-like pieces of steel attached to the fingers. Loose Black silk trousers, and Boots with a skull motif stamped around the rim completed the demonic costume.

Erik smirked and spread out his hands "Now then, you mustn't stop the fun on my account." He informed the crowd, eyes glinting with amusement. Murmur ran throughout the crowd: this man obviously dangerous, but who exactly was he? Finally the head of the mages council stepped forward.

"A man with an aura black as yours could only be the Phantom" he stated. Erik gave wry one sided smile, and swept a low, mocking bow

"In the flesh. But why the sudden silence? Surely you're braver than this" Erik replied straightening. The mages council, all twelve of them, glared at the reference to their being cowardly. The head mage, who been unofficially elected speaker for this occasion glared and readied a spell "enough of this banter. TO what do we owe this unexpected nightmare?' he snapped irritably. Erik arched his one visible eyebrow the head mage's words.

"A nightmare? Sir, I cannot begin to tell you how flattered I am to be considered that frightening" Erik drawled, placing emphasis on the word "that". The infamous necromancer began to walk around in the room in a lazy circle "I have merely come to make a formal announcement." Suddenly, Erik's voice grew ominous and full of fury "The world owes a great debt to me. I wish it to be known that I shall soon come to collect." At those words Christine's mind began working double-time to puzzle out the meaning of the comment. Finally, after a moment or two of tense silence, Christine asked the question on everyone's mind. "What do you mean?" Abruptly, Erik stopped walking and turned to Christine.

"How interesting. The bravest person in this room of 'valiant warlords' and mages is a young girl." He paused and let his bore directly into Christine's. Christine thought that best thing to do would be to stand her ground and wait for him to finish, so she did so. "Tell me, mistress, what precisely do you mean by that particular question?" Erik asked mockingly. Christine found herself growing shocked and quite irritated at Erik's mockery of society. However, Christine was still more intimidated and some-what frightened than irritated, after all the "phantom" was said to be the child of death itself. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of a very familiar voice

"Stop!" All heads turned to the speaker, Raoul de Changy, a noble and Christine's fiancé. He rushed forward brandished a rapier and wearing a costume that he thought was noble hawk and that Erik thought was foppish at its peak. Raoul slipped into stance all men used at the start of a duel. "Leave now, or I will personally escort you out." He threatened. Erik's temper flared immediately. His hand shot out, palm facing Raoul, and steel claws on his glove shining wickedly in the light. Raoul was encased in a cocoon of writhing shadows. Erik flipped his so that the palm faced upwards, and globe of darkness formed in the center of his palm. The globe shot out a tendril that wrapped itself around Raoul's neck. Erik twitched his finger as if beckoning and the shadow rope tightened.

"Don't delude yourself by thinking you can force me leave. You would appear to stupid enough already" Erik dropped his hand, realsing Raoul and backed into a shadowy croner of the room. "I fear that I must take my leave now, but remember, a pahtom can walk thoruhg walls. And this Phantom is alwys watching" His ultimatum delivered, Erik simply beagn to sourround himself with the same black miasma that had come prior to his entence. Chirstine hesited for a spilt second, and then dove into the smoke. Shouts echoed around the room and then all was darkness.

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Cliffhanger! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha! All righty, please review, please! There is a teenager with no social life who needs your feed back! Review and I'll give you a cake! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. If I did, things would very different

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When Christine opened her eyes, she found herself in a dark, albeit well-furnished cavern. For a minute of two, she couldn't see a thing, but eventually her eyes adjusted to the nearly non-existent light. What she did see almost scared her out of her skin. It was Erik, standing with his back to her. Christine could only see a silhouette of his movements as he, stripped off his clawed gloves and replaced the demon mask with a white half mask. Suddenly, out of the darkness came a low growl, almost a purr. Christine was nearly sacred to death again at the sound. Erik however laughed as whatever made the sound moved into his, and Christine's line of vision.

It was a huge, black wildcat with blazing red eyes, so tall that its head reached Erik's shoulder. This cat was one of the breed known as Wraith Panthers. Erik smiled slightly as the huge animal rubbed its head against his shoulder, obviously wanting attention. "Noche, you are a pain. I have a massive headache from the sheer number of idiots that were in that ball room" Erik informed the cat as he stroked its muzzle "Exactly how many people did you maim while I was gone?"

The question caused Christine to gasp out loud. Quickly she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, but it was too late. Erik now knew that she was here. He extended a hand in Christine's direction. A second later, she felt the shadows that had hidden wind around her body so she couldn't move and propel her forward until she stood in front of Erik, and to her horror, Noche.

Erik looked at the Christine's expression, then at the Wraith Panther "Noche, leave. I can't interrogate anybody if you're in the way." Noche snarled at Christine and looked Erik with almost human intelligence. Noche wanted to stay, and see what her master would do this intruder. Erik smirked evilly "Behave and maybe I'll let you rip the Head Mage to pieces when the dead are done tormenting him." That seemed to placate Noche and the Wraith Panther literally melted into the shadows and took its leave.

"Well, well, it seems that a little sprite has wandered its way into a demon's lair." Erik said mockingly as paced around Christine "Tell me, what in the name of the seven hells are you doing here!" he demanded. Christine gulped and ventured a tiny, shaky smile

"I wanted to see where you were going. I was curios." When she wasn't killed on the spot, Christine grew a little braver "And I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help the mages stop you" Erik tightened Christine's shadowy bonds with a flick of his wrist. Christine soon found herself gasping for breath.

"Oh, you were curios and wanted to help stop me" Erik sneered "And how do you propose to help the mages?" The masked necromancer loosened the bond just enough to allow an answer.

Christine held her head high and answered "Any way I can." Erik laughed cruelly

"The only thing you've done actually is help me. If every thinks that I'll do horrendously evil tings to you if they come too close, I'll have more time to finish what I've started." Erik bowed in a parody of gratefulness "So, thank you my lady, I'm in your debt" Christine squinted and knitted her eyebrows together in obvious confusion

"You mean you're not going to do terrible things to me?" she inquired. Erik raised an eyebrow

"It would be a waste of time and energy. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't have an endless supply of either. However, I can't guarantee that the dead souls here won't torment you or that Noche won't come back and rip you to shreds. I plan to completely ignore your existence. But, don't tempt me, or try to escape. This place is keyed to my life, so until I'm dead nobody can get in or out without my permission" Christine's normally strong sense of optimism faltered. Erik saw that and released her from bonds, his hope-crushing interrogation over.

Mean while, back at the ball room, an interrogation of a different was taking place. Raoul was ruthlessly pestering the Mages council about going to rescue Christine. "There has to be something you can do! I will not just sit here and let that... That freak torment my fiancée" he fumed for about that fiftieth time since Erik had left. The Head Mage rubbed his temples irately as turned to the fuming young noble 'Incredible' he thought 'We face a situation more delicate than a spider web, he still manages to think like a spoiled child'. However the Head Mage kept that particular comment to himself and made a more diplomatic reply

"I am afraid we can do nothing to help. There is no guarantee that going to rescue her now would not cause her death. From we know of the Phantom," The head Mage paused for breath and silently added to himself 'Which is next to nothing'. None the less he continued "He can not be put above any crimes that can possibly be committed"

Raoul shut his eyes tightly, ordering himself not to give up and cry "How can a person be that evil? Does he have no mercy? No pity? Not one scrap of compassion? How can this man be so cruel?"

The head Mage looked away for moment as if in shame. He turned back to look Raoul in the eye "Because this man's soul has become twisted beyond recognition, if it even exists still. Mercy, compassion, pity, empathy are all foreign concepts to him. His heart, if he has one is nothing more than a pale shadow." He said with conviction.

Erik had watching this exchange through his scrying glass the whole time. When the Head Mage had spoken his heartlessness and soullessness he knocked the scrying over viciously, causing the image to come to an abrupt halt. "A twisted soul and barely existent heart? Very well, I concede to that. But whose fault is it that things become like that? Mine? Or Yours? Tell me did you think I had forgotten?" he demeaned of the scrying glass, asking s question to one who could not hear it. For an instant memories swam across his vision.

A boy in a cage put on display. The murder of the one who displayed him, and his escape. His wandering alone and his spying on necromancers, and dark mages. The theft of their materials and their murder. The first time that he reveled himself to Mages Council as nothing more than a voice from the shadows. And the viscous, lies, the cruel propaganda that been spread by the Head Mage against him.

He stood for a moment with his eyes closed, breathing harshly. He laughed a hollow bitter laugh. "But soon, every thing you've done will be repaid ten fold. Erik twitched two fingers, in beckoning gesture and the Leader of the souls he summoned, the one with a deathly voice appeared.

"Yes? What is your will necromancer? What horrors shall we commit?" It hissed, sounding positively gleeful at the prospect of torturing people.

Erik fixed it with cold glare. "You are to find the Head of the Mages council. And you are to plague him nightmares, and haunt his very step. Torment him within an inch of his life."

"Yes, my master." The soul cackled evilly and it, with several more of the dead that had been summoned rushed off to carry out their malicious assignment. In the Corner where she sat, Christine whimpered a little in fright, and shivered with fear and because of the fact that the cavern was cold, and damp.

And above them all, a terrible shadow the color of old blood and voice like war watched. "Good. Soon the blood feud shall begin and I, the destroyer shall be free" it crowed triumphantly. Down below, every one from Erik to the Head Mage To lowliest serf went about their routine, unknowing of the horror that would come.

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Another Cliffhanger! Okay, please, please, please, review, I'm desperate. Any feed back at all is appreciated at this point in time. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Now when was the last time you saw necromancers running around Paris? I don't own it okay.

A/N: A huge thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are awesome, and make me just really happy. You all get cake.

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Christine awoke from an uneasy few hours of sleep. True to his word, Erik was almost completely ignoring the fact that she was there. The almost coming him allowing her to see where he kept food. Other than that, Christine was mainly left to her own devices. 

This usually meant batting away the dead that coming to nearly scare the life out of her. After a while she noticed a few things. While in the air, the souls looked like shadowy comets, but when on the ground, they took on a favored form that ranged from the horrific: A half mauled human torso above a bloated spider's body, to the ones that were much more human. Christine assumed the forms they used on the ground were what they really looked like.

One in particular mystified her the most, and she'd only just seen it. At first it was a shadow comet that was floating in front of her face. "You look worse than me, and I'm dead." Christine looked around wildly searching for the speaker

"Who said that?" The dead soul drifted down to the ground, where it took its ground shape: From the torso up, it was human, but below the waist there was only a whirling column of shadow. The whole shape was night black, and the torso was narrow waisted with two slight bulges around the chest that indicted the soul had been female in life. There was an outline of hair, and a slight bump where the nose would be. But, there was no mouth and two vaguely triangular chips of white fire served as eyes.

"That would be me" the soul replied.

"Who are you?" Christine inquired, sounding shocked beyond all reason

"That's an idiotic question, I'm dead. How can I be anyone?" Christine caught on

"All right then, who were you?' If the soul had a mouth, it definitely would have been smirking right then.

"That's more like it. In life I was named Alyth, and I was a thief." That comment about being a thief threw Christine off. She looked surprised about it. "You know what?" Alyth mused "You're too innocent for your own good. Somebody needs to teach you how to lie, or you'll get ripped to shreds. Metaphorically speaking. Or least it was metaphorical last time I checked." Alyth cupped a hand to her nonexistent mouth "Hikari, get your butt down here!"

Another shadow drifted down to stand next to Alyth. This one was almost exactly the same, but looked male, with broader shoulders and a flat chest. It was also slightly taller. Other than that, it was identical to Alyth in appearance. "Yes? What is it Alyth? And it had better be important, or I will terrorize you within an inch of your afterlife." Alyth turned to Christine

"Allow me to present Hikari DaMurdamos, in life my partner in crime" Alyth's tone of voice was amused and the former thief seemed completely unfazed by the threat. However, Christine was still a bit confused.

"That's an odd name. I've never heard anything like it." Erik had apparently overhead part of the conversation, because he rolled his eyes at the comment Bout Hikari's name. The action clearly implied 'If you've never heard a name like that, then you're so naïve it's wonder you're still alive.' Christine noticed the gesture, and it set her mind to "fuming" while she glared at him

'It's not fair! Just because I don't everything that he does, he practically shouts that I'm overly naïve. And it also isn't fair, that he can make rolling his look seductive.' That last thought sent her brain reeling again 'What? Where did that come from? Bad Christine! You have a fiancé and you love him. You're not supposed to think that a person who's all but holding you hostage is seductive.' 'But you do,' a treacherous part her mind said 'Why deny it? Some of the ladies at the ball probably thought it too.'

Christine shook her head vigorously in an attempt to clear it of such thoughts. Through out the few moments of Christine's inner conflict, Hikari and Alyth had been trading equally amused glances. Hikari was the first to break the silence "In answer to your Question, My name isn't very odd where I was born. In life, I was a drow. Now then, Alyth what do you want".

Christine had heard of the drow, who were also called dark elves. Unlike their fair skinned elven cousins, the drow had ebony black skin and silver hair. They lived in vast under-ground cities and rarely left, apart from the occasional merchant or ambassador. Alyth spoke next, as Erik turned back to his work. "Hikari, this poor lady is too innocent…" Christine cut Alyth off

"My name is Christine" she said. Alyth looked her a bit irritatedly, the continued

"Hikari, teach Christine how to lie properly." Hikari bowed theatrically

"It would be my pleasure." Alyth laughed.

"See? That's how you lie". The soul commented dryly. For the first time since she had arrived in Erik's lair, Christine laughed out loud. The Two souls had mysteriously worked in such a way that Christine's' optimism was beginning to be restored. Not by much, but every little bit counted. However, one question had worked its way into Christine's head, concerning Alyth and Hikari.

"How come you two still hang around with each other? You're dead, so how did you stay in contact?" Hikari and Alyth looked at each other. If non-living ghosts could look thoughtful, then that was what the expression the two souls would have been wearing.

"It's a bit complicated." Alyth began "See, in the realms of the dead, only people who died around the same time or at the same location have any contact at all". Hikari finished the statement

"Suffice to say that we died in the same place, at the same time." Christine nodded in understanding. But, the answer raised another question.

"How?" Alyth and Hikari took it turns to explain that the day after their greatest theft ever; they returned to the scene of the crime to reclaim some of their own possessions which they had been forced to leave behind. They had been caught, and sentenced to die for the numerous crimes they had committed. Alyth and Hikari were granted one last request, due to their tender age: 15 years old, only a year younger than Christine herself. The request carried the exclusions of freedom, pardon or a lightened sentence. They had asked to die at the same time; a final pledge of loyalty.

The poets wept and noble ladies swooned over what they called "true love", which was really friendship to point of being surrogate family. The sentimental people had demanded the right to bury them together, in grave marked as "Dusk and Daybreak". Apparently, a poet had compared their looks to that. Christine listened intently to the tale and the accounts of their many escapades that had preceded their death.

Erik half-listened to the account of their deaths; it was a useful thing for a necromancer to know. For the most part, he was busy spying on the Head Mage. True to their word, the dead he sent had plagued the old man with nightmares and were now haunting him as he rushed into an emergency council meeting that had been called by Raoul.

In the council meeting

The Head mage entered, looking pale and haggard as if he hadn't slept at all. Indeed he hadn't, he ah d been tormented with a dream of an event he thought to firmly in the past. The event in question was when a couple had brought in their son, a little boy of five years. The boy pale was pale as death, and one side of his face was grotesquely malformed. The parents didn't know what to do; the child terrified them and disgusted them. Apparently, the mid-wife who helped with birth had given the child the name Erik, as the boy's parents were too distraught. They wanted to kill the boy who they believed to be cursed. But, the murder of one's own child carried the death penalty so there was nothing they could do.

"Give the boy to me. I'll take care of it." He'd told them. And he did. The boy was sold to a troupe of entertainers, which five years later had died under questionable circumstances. Unfortunately for the Head Mage, that little boy had memorized his face, and had never forgotten the one who sentenced him to a cage. Now, twenty years later, the event was returning to haunt him.

"What's wrong? You look horrible" Raoul stated bluntly as the Head Mage entered the room.

"I had a troubled sleep last night. I'm sure that by tomorrow I'll be fine." Head Mage said, to reassure himself as much as everyone else in the room.

The meeting began. Like the last time, the mages council had met with Raoul; the young noble was once again demanding that they go to rescue Christine. And like last time, the council said that it was far too dangerous; suicide even. After hours of debate and heated arguments on both sides, it was decided to not go rescue Christine, but to send mage lighting after the Phantom.

They had the signature of his magic from his entrance and departure from the masquerade, and the mage lighting would incapacitate him for a short time. What the council didn't tell Raoul was that a "short time" meant about six hours at the most. The foppish aristocrat thought they Phantom would be out of action for few weeks and the council really didn't want to correct him. He was angry enough already.

So it was decided and aparticularly painful bolt of mage lighting was now winging its merry toward Erik. Back in his lair, Erik had stopped scrying before the meeting began, and was now plotting and laid the scrying glass he always used on the table beside him. Right then, the mage lighting leapt out of the scrying glass. Erik hissed in pain. The Head mage had mad the lighting as painful as possible, but Erik would not cry out. He knew that only they could have sent it, and he would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Christine however, did scream as the lighting engulfed Erik and knocked him unconscious.

And above them all, the destroyer saw his chance in the single moment of suffering, that was all it needed and it slipped into the reality of mankind.

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Another cliffhanger! Now review or I'll send necromancer Erik to punish you. Wait a sec; you'd probably like that wouldn't you? Anyway, REVIEW! 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The original characters of Phantom of the Opera are not owned by me.

A/N: Once again, a huge thanks to all my reviewers. You people are awesome. I'm out of cake, so you all get cookies and an hour with Erik (Don't worry, he'll be good. If he's not, then he gets locked in the pink room, my specially designed torture chamber) and I'm really sorry about the long pause between updates. I've been really busy, since my mom has signed me up for a swim team, so there's lot of meets that last for hours. Any how, on with the fic!

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"What happened?" Christine asked, looking desperately between the two thieve souls, and Erik, crumpled on the ground.

"I don't really know, but whatever happened it knocked him out cold." said Alyth drifting closer to the fallen necromancer.

For a moment, Christine was busy with a vicious internal battle. 'Should I help him? Or should I just let things run their course?' Almost immediately, her mind came up with distinct, and opposite viewpoints:

'Help him. It's the right thing to do'

'**_Just leave him there. After all, it's not like he'd ever help you.'_**

'There's no proof of that. And he did show some mercy, even if wasn't a lot. But, there's at least some good in everybody, so help him'

'**_Some people, people like him are just evil. He's holding you against your will. Give an eye for an eye. He wronged you, so just walk away.' _**This continued on and on, with equally persuasive arguments from both sides.

Finally though, what her father had once told her, "that since only the angels are perfect, so we have to do what we can to help, and give a second chance no matter what" won. 'He's a person before anything else he might be. Helping people is what's right, no matter what'

Christine looked at Hikari and Alyth, who had remained where they had stood at the beginning of Christine's conflict. "What should I do?"

It was Hikari who answered the question "Well, he's unconscious, so about the only thing you can do is keep waiting. Unless you want to try and wake him up right now, but that might not be such a good idea. So just lay him down somewhere comfortable."

Alyth decided to pipe in with a suggestion of her own "And you might want to take is shirt off while you're at it."

"WHAT?" that particular suggestion nearly scared Christine to death. One part of her screamed that it was wrong by all definitions of the word, and another was almost delighted at the prospect.

"Look, he fell. That means he might have gotten injured or something. If there's Glass on the floor, there'll be a cut. And a fall like that could cause a sprain. And to check for a sprain, you have come into direct contact with the skin. Either way, you have to take the shirt off."

Christine gulped, but did as instructed. Erik had no serious injury, but many old scars on his chest. Christine gasped at the sheer amount of scars present. Hesitantly she reached out one hand to touch Erik's face, which looked almost peaceful while he was locked in sleep. 'I wonder if the rumors are true. If the phantom's skin really as cold as a corpse?'

Her fingers lightly brushed against the skin of Erik's unmasked cheek. His skin was only slightly cool to the touch, most likely a result of his living underground. From their vantage point in a corner, Alyth and Hikari watched silently while having a conversation only they could hear.

"There is way too much romance in the air, and it's choking me" Alyth announced telepathically to Hikari. The other soul shook his head

"Alyth, you can't choke, you're dead. And just leave the girl be, at least she's helping." Hikari said practically. Alyth crossed her arms and sighed softly

"I know, I know. I just wish that we could do something other than explain and advise. But since we're dead, that's all we can do. I miss being alive" Hikari put a hand on his friends shoulder

"Me too Alyth, me too." They two former thieves ended their conversation and turned back to watch the events unfolding between Erik and Christine.

Christine had been keeping dutiful watch over the unconscious necromancer for about the past two hours. But, one thing kept wandering through her head 'What's behind the mask?' She couldn't help but wonder and wondering caused Christine to run a hand along the cool surface of the mask from time to time. Finally though, her curiosity got the better of her and Christine pulled the mask away.

Unfortunately, the second she took off the mask, Erik regained consciousness. He sprang to his feet with extraordinary speed, knocking Christine to the floor. If looks could kill, then Christine was dead already. She cowered on the floor, in fear of the necromancer obvious fury, and in revulsion of his unmasked face. The side previously covered by the mask was horrifically deformed. He eye socket was misshapen, and a large chunk of hair had vanished. The exposed area of his scalp was missing a patch of skin, so the bone of Erik's skull was clearly visible. The skin was pockmarked, and several deep gashes that were livid red scar tissue instead of skin were present on his cheek. The flesh was some-what twisted and the side of Erik's nose that had covered by the mask was twisted as well and pulled over to one side. It was a face from hell; one that not evens a mother could love.

"Why so afraid? You were the one who stole my mask after all. Tell me, is this what you wanted to see?" he sneered "did you perhaps think that the mask was just for show? A mere eccentricity of madman?" The accusations poured out as Erik cursed Christine, the mage's council, and the world in general. Christine began to weep softly, not only because she was afraid, but also at the grief, and the pain that were mixed with rage in Erik's voice. Erik held one hand over the maimed side of his face, and turned his back on Christine "Damn you" he whispered "Damn you all"

Erik replaced his mask, picked up his shirt, turned on his heel, and walked away. He called forth the souls that he had sent to torment the Head mage. Their leader drifted forward

"Yes master?" it hissed "What would you have us do now?"

"Wreak havoc. Terrify them all. I don't care how you do it, just bring hell to earth" Erik commanded. His command given, the souls went out cackling to do their "merry" work and Erik stalked away to what Christine assumed was his bedroom.

Christine was left with the horrible feeling of guilt and the thought 'This is all my fault. People are going to be hurt, because he said he didn't care what those spirits did, and it's all my fault. If I hadn't taken off his mask, then he wouldn't be so angry and none of this would have happened' Tears trickled down Christine's cheeks as that thought played endlessly around in her mind. The sight of her crying caused Hikari and Alyth to leave their place in a corner and drift over.

"What's wrong?" whispered Alyth

"Why are you crying" Hikari asked

Christine looked up at the two thief souls that seemed to be her life-line in an unfamiliar place "I just feel like this is all my fault. That if I hadn't done what I did, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't tell yourself that. For one, it's wrong, and secondly, it won't make anything better" Alyth informed Christine

"I agree. Felling guilt over circumstances beyond your control only make you feel miserable, and then your misery can carry over to people around you. None of this is your fault. True, you made the necromancer angry which caused him to send out the more malicious souls, but isn't your fault that he chose to react that way." That comment came from the ever-practical Hikari.

"Thanks. But there's still something I don't understand. Why is he trying to get revenge by sending out souls to torment people? There are millions of other things that he could have done to get back whoever he's trying to hurt." Christine said

Hikari and Alyth shared view pints on that subject, while Erik schemed and cursed himself or beginning to trust Christine. In the mean time, the mage's council was in yet another emergency meeting. This time, however, the meeting was not called by Raoul, and wasn't about going to rescue Christine. This meeting had called by the Head mage, on the subject of the dead tormenting everyone and spreading mass chaos.

"The meeting is now in session" the Head mage announced. Immediately debates began, suggestions were hurled left and right, and Raoul, who was invited because of his part in the whole affair, glanced around nervously and wondered what they were talking about. Finally it was decide that they would summon a spirit of their own to capture Erik, and at Raoul's insistence, rescue Christine. The Destroyer, who had been feeding off the terror of the all people who getting tormented, heard about the summoning and saw it's chance to start its master plan.

So, when the mage's council began the summoning, the Destroyer made sure that it was the only one available to summon. When summoned the destroyer took its favored from; that of an enormous blood red serpent. It's task? To capture the "Phantom" at all costs.

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Just review please 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I onw ti all! wakes up Damn. I own nothing

A/N: All Reviewers get a complintary mage to spy on people wiht.

And so, the desytoryer sset out to do its foul task. Everywhere that the blood red serpent wnet, the dead sprits snet out by Erik, fled. Peple rejoiced at the fact that the mages had sent them a "savoir", not realizing that the spirts were deathly afraid. They did not consider that if the very dead feared this creature, that they might also be in danger.


End file.
